Folding Chair
by widget29
Summary: Yet another story based off the "little spitfire" comment from Denial :P LIGHT slash. KF/R. Now TWO oneshots. Chapter 2: Robin's POV
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, DC characters, etc. I also don't own this title (it belongs to Regina Spektor from her album Far)**

Folding Chair

_Find your own little spitfire._

It had been two years since those words had been spoken to him, and yet they floated easily to the surface of his mind as he admired the perfect arc of Robin's fist.

Wally felt the younger boy's knuckles graze his hair as he dropped to the ground, sweeping out a leg to catch Robin in the back of knees. He winced as Robin's heel connected with his shin, effectively stopping his attack. He retracted his foot quickly and rolled away, trying to get out of the younger boy's range. When had that kid gotten so fast?

Wally remained crouching low to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Robin stood about ten feet in front of him, hands on his hips. He was giving him the Batman look—mouth stern and attention focused so intensely that Wally felt like he was a bug being slowly smushed into the ground. Lately Robin had been pulling out that look more often. In fact, this whole training session had the feel of Batman to it. For the past hour, Robin had been attacking him unrelentingly with cold precision and less conversation than Wally could've had with a brick wall. Wally wasn't sure what was more frustrating: Robin's air of cool detachment or the fact that the younger boy was seriously kicking his ass.

"Seriously, Rob. _Ease up_, would ya?"

"No way. This is what happens when you go on vacation."

"I was _injured_! I spent a _week_ in the hospital!"

"Same thing." The corner of Robin's mouth twitched a little, and Wally liked that a lot better. It was much more _Robin_.

"Not to normal people," Wally muttered. He shifted slightly. His leg was feeling surprisingly good. He might try to use his speed for Robin's next attack.

As if sensing his thoughts, Robin suddenly moved. He closed the gap between them almost faster than Wally could react. He just barely managed to duck out of the way in time and zip behind the younger boy. There was a small twinge in his leg from the movement, but Wally didn't have time to think about it as Robin's fist was suddenly inches from his face. Wally turned and the blow glanced off his jaw.

Robin did not acknowledge the partial hit he landed at all—no gloating, no teasing, nothing. Silent and calm, he fell back into a defensive stance, waiting for Wally's counterattack. Wally's stomach clenched in frustration. He charged full speed at the younger boy and tackled him to the ground.

The move had obviously caught Robin off-guard, but he quickly recovered himself, twisting and wriggling to break free. Wally swore as he tried to get a grip on the younger boy. Robin had the advantage of flexibility and it made him slippery like a little fish. Wally was completely beyond thinking about strategy now. He was fighting tooth and nail with no other thought except to subdue the younger boy. They grappled with each other for a while, Wally relying heavily on his larger frame to give him an edge. Robin was the only one who could make him fight like this—with such reckless abandon.

Robin was laughing as Wally finally pinned him, and the older boy found himself grinning like mad, intoxicated by that carefree sound. He was suddenly lighter than he had felt in weeks. Adrenaline still pumping through him, high on the thrill of combat, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the younger boy's. It was just a brush of the lips—almost innocent, really. But Robin was no longer laughing when he pulled away.

Wally swallowed, his brain scrambling to catch up with his body and make some sort of sense of what had happened. He had no idea what was he supposed to do now. But Robin answered that question for him.

Pain exploded in his mouth as a fist connected with his face. He hit the ground on his side, knocked over by the force of the blow. "_The hell was that for?_" he growled, wiping the blood trickling down his chin from where his lip had split open.

"What? Were you expecting me to swoon and fall into your arms?"

"Well, that would've been a lot nicer than punching me in the face!" Robin's foot was suddenly on his chest, pressing him into the ground.

The younger boy towered over him, eyes narrowing behind his mask. "That's what you get for trying to get out of training."

There it was again. The Batman was coming out. Wally felt a twinge looking up at Robin—no longer running wild and reveling in his skills as he used to but masking everything with a quiet, steely composure.

"Who would want to get out of this?" Wally mumbled bitterly, grimacing.

Robin suddenly grinned. It was like sunshine breaking through the clouds. "Only a lazy ass who gets his butt kicked by a fifth-grader."

"Dude, that kid was _giant_. I thought he was going to _eat me_."

Robin snickered as he reached down to help him up.

"Not that I could blame him. I _do _look very delicious." Wally knew he was rambling, but he was so encouraged by Robin's smile that he couldn't shut himself up.

Robin snorted. "Yeah, sure, KF."

Wally's heart soared at the sound of that old nickname. He grabbed Robin's face, smashing the younger boy's cheeks together as he planted a large, wet smooch on his lips, not caring about the pain that flared up in his lower lip or the smear of blood he left on Robin's mouth. He had already zoomed away by the time Robin was swiping at him.

"I _told_ you! We're _training_!" Robin growled, stomping his foot. No Batman now. Only annoyed little kid Robin.

"Gotta keep on your toes, Rob. You never know when one of your enemies is gonna try to lay one on you."

"Agh! KF!" Robin lunged at him, and Wally zoomed off, laughing and feeling free.

_Find your own little spitfire_.

That part was easy. It was _keeping_ him that was the problem. It was getting harder and harder to draw out that wild, fiery temper. But Wally knew that if he just broke through that wall of cool detachment, he could still find his little spitfire underneath. All he had to do was be annoying enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: Couldn't resist adding another chapter :P Hope it came out okay. Writing from Robin's POV was much harder... Also thanks to everyone who reviewed/faved!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, DC characters, etc.**

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Folding Chair  
Chapter 2

Robin sighed as he looked down at the sleeping figure. Barely noon and already Wally was napping. Robin couldn't blame him really; not after the training he'd put his friend through this morning. Even he had to admit it had been pretty brutal. Of course, it would've been _a lot_ easier if Wally had cooperated. He hadn't anticipated how difficult training with the older boy would be. Robin himself was mentally and physically exhausted from the encounter. Sparing with Wally was like fighting a fly—it doesn't hurt you, but it zips around all over the place, occasionally buzzes obnoxiously in your ear, and never holds still enough for you to _smash_ it. It was _exhausting_.

Wally gave a loud snore, voicing his agreement. Robin knelt beside the couch and gently slipped the older boy's goggles off.

Things were getting worse. There was something he could see in Wally's eyes at times—just a glimpse. He didn't know if it was frustration or resentment or hurt or all of those things together. But for all his attempts to ignore it, it bothered Robin deeply.

He brushed Wally's hair back lightly—just to draw a little more strength—then stood to leave.

"Nnngh…. Robin?" Wally stirred and opened his eyes, blinking back sleep. "Time is it?"

Robin was glad he had taken that extra moment to compose himself. "12:10."

"Were you gonna wake me up for _more_ training?" Wally asked, wrinkling his nose.

"I was thinking about it."

"Come _on_, man. Can't we just chill for the rest of the day? Let's watch a movie or play video games or something."

"_No_. You don't have time to 'chill.' You're three weeks out of shape."

"_Robiiiiiin_," Wally whined.

Robin gritted his teeth. He recognized the ploy. It was Wally's infamous Throw A Tantrum Like a Five-Year-Old Tactic—his go-to maneuver when he woke up cranky and hungry. Robin showed a saint-like amount of restraint when he simply responded, "Look, let's just get some lunch first."

"I don't want lunch," Wally muttered sulkily. "I wanna play video games."

"_Stop that_," Robin snapped. The words flew from his mouth before he could stop them. This kind of outburst had been happening a lot more recently—the consequence of trying harder to keep his emotions in-check, most likely. Robin took a breath, fighting for control. "You need to take your training more seriously, Wally." His voice came out surprisingly calm.

That _something_ flickered in Wally's eyes for a moment, and Robin was almost sure that it _was_ resentment this time. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach, he crossed his arms and squared off against the older boy. _Don't back down._ Wally's gaze met his own without hesitation.

"Why?"

Robin was thrown off by the sheer audacity of the question. "_Why_?"

"Yeah. _Why?_ Why is this suddenly so important?"

"What a _stupid_ question."

"It's not stupid." Wally was looking too serious. "You're pushing me harder than everyone else, and you know it. I want to know why."

"Alright. Fine." Robin was careful not to look away as he spoke. "The truth is, your lack of discipline is holding us back. You're falling behind the rest of the team."

"Bullshit."

"It's not—"

"I train enough. I do well on missions. Why should I have to work harder than I already am?"

"Because if you don't, you'll get yourself _killed_, you idiot!" Robin blurted.

Wally's closed expression blossomed as if he had just made some great discovery. Robin could almost hear the triumphant _Eureka!_ echoing in Wally's head.

"Forget it," Robin growled. But as he turned to leave, a hand wrapped around his wrist and he was yanked backwards. Wally's limbs locked around him like steel, trapping him against the older boy. Robin let out a long string of curses. Wally was never that fast when they sparred.

He froze when he felt a pair of lips brush against his jaw. The gesture was _far _too intimate for comfort.

"You—" Robin's voice came out higher than he had intended, and he had to swallow and start again. "You really love trying to piss me off, don't you?"

"Oh, is _that_ what I'm doing?" Wally's warm breath tickled his skin as the older boy pressed another kiss on his neck.

"Y—yes." He wouldn't put it past Wally to do something like this out of spite or boredom or whatever it was that motivated the obnoxious teen. But now Robin was beginning to feel less sure.

"Fine. You put me through ungodly amounts of training because you're mean, and I kiss you because I like to be annoying. Sounds like we understand each other."

"We do!" Robin insisted, something akin to panic rising in him. "We understand each other _perfectly_." He twisted violently in the older boy's grip. Wally held on tight and the two of them hit the ground painfully.

Robin sat up slowly, working to calmly and rationally assess the situation and plan an escape. He had managed to maneuver himself on top of Wally and that should've given him the advantage, but the older boy had his wrists locked against his chest, and Robin found he had no leverage to move. Wally's eyes were blazing as they stared up at him, searching for something in his face.

Robin schooled his expression automatically.

The older boy sighed, turning his head away. "I hate it when you do that," he mumbled.

Robin couldn't respond. He was too busy trying to pretend the comment didn't sting.

A heavy silence settled between them, stretching on long enough for Robin to become physically uncomfortable with the heat from Wally's body and to realize how embarrassing it would be if someone were to walk in on them like this.

Wally preceded his next words with a long, resigned sigh. "Fine. You win. I promise I'll be more serious about training."

Robin let out a breath. "Good."

"But on one condition."

"What?"

"You have to do something fun with me. Every night."

"_What?_ But—but I can't do something with you _every night_! We have missions! And I've got patrol, and—"

"Five nights a week?"

"….Two."

"Three."

The intense determination radiating from Wally made Robin hesitate. It felt strange to be negotiating hangouts, but if got Wally to train more…

"Okay."

Wally's eyes lit up, and his face split into a wide grin. His grip on Robin's wrists loosened. All the tension in Robin's body melted away, and he allowed his hands to relax and uncurl against the older boy's chest.

Everything would be fine now. Wally would be fine. Robin was nearly sick with relief. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of Wally's mouth.

When he pulled away, a slow smile was spreading on Wally's lips. It was a mischievous little curve, and Robin didn't trust it one bit. He twisted his hands in his friend's shirt, raising him a few inches off the ground, and glared at him with as much ferocity as he could manage.

"Just so we're clear," he said softly, "we're _not_ making a habit of this."

Wally didn't even have the decency to look intimidated. He just beamed up at him, smile crooked, hair mussed up, and looking absolutely ridiculous with glee.

"I'm claiming my first night of fun _now_."

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**...And you're welcome to interpret that last bit however you want XD**


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